


Remnants

by palomino333



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Accidents, Dancing, F/M, Fire, Kissing, Long-Term Relationship(s), Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3757609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palomino333/pseuds/palomino333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've been burned by you before!" Human once more, Lumière and Babette recount a certain incident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remnants

Lumière never considered himself a religious man. His thoughts revolved more around what was tangible, than what was not. He cared more to experience the pleasures life offered, from the most glamorous to the most basic (although less so when it came to the latter), rather than for church-going. Secular though he could be called, he would say that regaining his body was the closest he had ever come to a rebirth. He promised himself he would never take his body for granted again, as humans often do.

Life as a candelabra had been an amusing curiosity at first, but as the years had worn on, the cold fact that it had been a prison had been driven further and further into him. He could literally light up a room, but when there had been no stranger to warm, there hadn't been much of a point. That wasn't to say his friends and fellow servants hadn't appreciated his ability, especially given that the castle, in its dreariness and despair, had welcomed the cold. Still, it hadn't provided much for him. Lumière had pined for the old days of grandeur more and more. That was why he had been doubly happy when his master's curse had long at last been broken.

Most importantly, Prince Adam had bettered himself as a person. He had not only found someone who cared about him as a result of this, but he had also reclaimed his life. He could be a man once more, and live in happiness after years among years of being without it. Lumière, quite honestly, had felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders as he watched the prince twirl his bride across the dance floor with a carefree smile on his face. After trying for all of that time to pull him out of his crestfallen state, but to no avail, and seeing him finally feeling better…Lumière knew better than to think that Adam wasn't going to be plagued with regret over how he had treated others during that time, and memories of self-isolation, but those pertained to the past. He would learn to move on.

Falling a close second to that in importance was the return of the servants to their own bodies after being away from them for so long. Walking and basic bodily movement had been the most difficult to master. Comically enough, the servants that had not taken a bipedal form had been prone to falling over, or at the very least, losing balance. Cogsworth had had the last laugh that day, and Lumière had been all too happy to allow his friend to enjoy it, seeing as how the former just as quickly helped the maître d' up whenever he fell.

Of course, so much more had been to this transformation than a simple show of staggering. The bodily needs manifested themselves soon enough, and their occurrences had been rather unnerving. After years of being without a human form, Lumière was nearly driven to his knees (although more out of surprise than actual pain) by sudden sharp pangs in his stomach. At least he still remembered how to meet that need, as had everyone else. Ah, the glorious feast in Belle's honor during the evening of the day that everyone had become human again…Although it had been probably the smallest gathering in the castle's history, its attendees being the prince, his lady, and the staff, its meaning had certainly made it the greatest.

But perhaps the most wonderful aspect of receiving his human shell once more was the warmth. It wasn't a full ignition like the candle flames he used to have. This was internal, and although it was far less entertaining or awe-inspiring than a dancing flame, it held a comfort that was irresistible. This was a soothing, gentle sort that prompted closeness, and the intimate, peaceful act of an embrace. He had felt that intimacy as he held his dear Babette's hand at the ball, and he felt it once more tonight. Supplementing his bodily needs had once been considered a chore. Now, however, Lumière had become grateful for the ability to do so. There was one need, though, that never did lose its luster, and its pleasure was only exemplified by the return of his body. His lady and he had come as close as they had been able to in satisfying it while in the form of objects. Still, shared kisses and flirtations had only carried them so far. So much more had been needed between them. Bodily contact provided so much more pleasure when it was actual skin on skin, each touch and caress exemplified to amazing levels.

"Now, now, Lumière," Babette scolded lightly as he kissed her neck, "let's not rush things."

He chuckled, nuzzling her neck. "Oh ma cherie, have faith in me. I wouldn't dare."

Reaching behind her head with a smirk, she grabbed onto his chin, and tugged it, but not without some resistance. Lumière whimpered, determined to keep his attentions on her nape. He pressed a trail of dry, clean kisses from the top, where her hairline met her neck, to the bottom, where her neck met her shoulder. His arms more snugly curled about her waist, his fingers drawing lines across the soft fabric. It was fascinating that such thin cloth could hide so much. The soft groans she made from his caresses and kisses pushed him even further into his desires. If it felt this good when they were both fully clothed, he couldn't imagine what it would be like otherwise, though it was clear they were heading in that direction. Lumière, of course, had memories of such encounters, but he'd rather not recount them preemptively; it would take away from this.

Babette was patient, pulling him slowly in the direction she desired. "Come, come, amour," she whispered.

At long last, Lumière relented his self-torture, and allowed her to drag him down to her bare shoulder. The stands of her hair tickled his temple. The kiss on his cheek by her prompted him to question in a sultry voice, "Is this how you propose to take things slow?"

Her smile was illuminated by the low candlelight in his room. "You forget, there are two of us to this," she reached up a hand again to stroke his cheek lovingly, "Let me have a say in this, and it will be more beneficial to each of us."

He returned her smile, letting go of her abdomen to place his hands over her own. "Certainly you must believe that I do not see you as inconsequential."

Babette let out a sigh of content. "You have proven that to me all too well over the years."

"Oh?" Lumière countered, "I 'proved' something to you?"

Her smile widened before she turned his jibe on him. "Certainly you must think I meant more than that."

His fingers left her hand on his cheek. A moment later, his hand reappeared on her shoulder, and he began stroking the cream-colored flesh. Babette arched in response, rolling out the aching muscles in her shoulders. She squeezed the fingers of the hand that was still on hers. His hand connected with the white puff that was her sleeve, pushing it down a way. "Of course I d—ah!" Lumière let go of her, jerking back.

Babette cried out in surprise, spinning to look at him. "What's the matter?" She asked concernedly, pushing the downed sleeve back up. He didn't say anything for a moment. It had looked so terrible, so ugly, and it had been his fault. He opened his mouth to reply when her eyes widened, displaying recognition in them, along with a whispered "Oh."

Lumière decided against speaking, as she already knew. Instead, he gave a solemn nod. Babette relaxed, and held out a hand to him, the worry remaining. "I should have told you it was still there. I'm sorry."

He took it. "Actually, I'm glad you didn't. It would have made no difference."

"Save one," she replied, leading him over to sit on the edge of the bed, "We wouldn't have been able to experience that," Babette held up a finger, "And I certainly don't regret it."

Lumière relaxed a little, shifting so that he was more comfortable. "Happy to hear it," he responded, kissing her hand.

She smiled sadly, running her thumb over her palm. "It's the past, Lumière, but I understand why it affects you," looking up at him, she added, Iit did come as a shock to me when I first saw the scar in the mirror, I'll admit."

XXXXXX

It had been a pure accident.

About four years in to the castle's curse, the winter had seemed colder and bleaker than ever. A storm had caused heavy amounts of snow to bar entry to the grounds, frost had coated the windows, and ice had frozen the gates shut. The interior of the building had been dreary, to say the least. With little to nothing to entertain themselves, the servants were drowning in monotony, save Chip and his siblings, bless their innocent demeanors. The little ones had taken to roaming around the castle on Sultan, and exploring whatever nook and cranny they hadn't truly noticed before. For the adults, on the other hand, it was far less simple. Mrs. Potts, although happy that her children were at ease, was always worrying whether or not they would get into trouble. This was mainly due to the disparity in size between the teacups and the castle itself.

Cogsworth had practically driven himself mad with the need for organization. He would go on and on about how the castle's grounds used to be swept clean of snow and debris until he found himself without a voice. There were even a few times when he, fed up, would swing treacherously from windowsills to clear off the frost from the inside. Lumière, worried over this change in his friend's character, would either stand beneath the sill to catch him, or try to coax him into something that would take his mind off of boredom, namely Cogsworth's secret pleasure, dancing. There were times, however, when Cogsworth was better off left alone, such as when he was orating a particularly long rant.

It was times like these that Lumière spent with Babette. It was enigmatic, their relationship. There were some times were the two would flirt and embrace one another in fits of passion, and others where they would simply talk to one another, enjoying each other's company as she dusted. This was one of the former, although it had a taste of the latter. "Care to dance with me, ma cherie?" Lumière asked, extending his snuffed-out "hand" toward his companion with a bow.

"Right now? Is it appropriate?" Babette questioned in a reluctant voice. She backed up from him, her feathers whispering. Cogsworth had recently ordered the maids to tidy up the much-disused ballroom, saying it was better that they didn't idle. Progress was slow for obvious reasons, and today, the maids had retired after long hours of work, save one and her lover.

As a response, Lumière bounced a few steps away from her, toward the closed window leading onto the balcony. Spinning quickly around, the fire on his lit candles swaying with the movement, he replied, "No one has said otherwise, have they?"

Shaking her "head," the feather duster edged forward toward the only source of light in the room, save for the moonlight that spilled in through the window. The chandelier was out, and cobwebs still clung to it. The candleholders on the balcony above them had long-since been snuffed, the curtains and bows between them tattered, and hanging precariously. The floor was still covered in long streaks of dust, but those were fewer and further between than before. Again, he held out his appendage to her. "Babette, it has been too long." She nodded slowly, stopping short for a moment of thought. Lumière allowed it. They had all the time in the world. She wouldn't be expected to work again until dawn, and the night was young.

She broke the silence. "It has been a long time," Babette murmured, inclining her "head" slightly, "Do you remember the prince's birthday?"

He chuckled. "How could I not? You were the most beautiful woman there." The aforementioned celebration had taken place a year before the curse had been cast. The dead room they now stood in had been filled to the brim with dancers, its surroundings gaily decorated with reds, blues, greens, and oranges in the brilliant light of the chandelier.

"Oh really?" She taunted, sweeping around him, and forcing him to spin to watch her as she picked up speed, "You certainly seemed to have fun with Josette," skidding to a halt and pausing just before his face, she added, "Tell me, Lumière, how soft did her overweight rear end feel?" Before he could react, she bent backward out of his reach, sliding away with a giggle as she continued to circle him.

Lumière crossed his arms in mock defense. "I would have you know two things, ma mie," he drew himself up proudly, "The first is that I have not danced with her since then, for I fear having my feet trodden upon again, and the second is that I saved the most dances, including the very last, for you," spinning to face her directly, he finished, "I believe you do owe me something as compensation for your false accusations."

Babette placed her lips together, and rolled her eyes. He couldn't help but notice how her mouth curved up in a smirk. At long last, she surrendered, sauntering toward him with a muttered "Very well," as he wound his arm around her, she cleared her throat meaningfully, "Do remember, Lumière, that just because you appear different from what you were then, do not expect me to give you any passes. After such persistence, I expect a first-rate dance."

"With pleasure, Babette," he replied, snuffing out his other candle, which was held free, before beginning to twirl her about. Dancing alone was easy; all he had had to focus on was his own center of balance, namely the hilt of the candelabra. But balancing another object alongside him? Thankfully, her spitefulness was all part of the game, otherwise the two would have fallen over. She held herself up while still allowing him to lead. The bouncing and swishing of their bodies was a rather silly rhythm, and as a result, the two began to laugh.

"My, my," Babette commanded, "you are still light on your feet as always, aren't you?" She tsked her tongue as he nearly trod on her feathers.

As a response, Lumière gave an over-exaggerated cough, pressing his free candle close to his mouth. "I would dance far better if you kept your feathers out of my face."

She tossed her "head," and gave a bodily shake as a result. Lumière took that as his invitation to draw in the little coquette, and place a kiss on her lips, his excitement nearly knocking them to the floor. It was almost is if they had gone back in time, the brightness and beauty of that lost day in this room restored once more, the warmth returning to this bastion in which they dwelled, detached from the rest of the world.

It was only a moment later that he realized the brightness and heat was coming from him. His eyes popped open to see that both of his candles had ignited due to his rise of emotions. One of them was treacherously close to the wood that formed Babette's upper half. Hovering just above the image was her face, reflecting his alarm back at him. Tinted against her white cap was a patch of dark gray. A peculiar scent filled the air. Grasping its source in that moment, Lumière flung his arms away from her, quickly blowing out the flames on his candles once more. "Don't move!" He exclaimed fearfully in-between breaths.

Babette followed his advice, but only halfway, turning her head as far back as she could to blow out the fire. Fear turned to horror as she saw the full extent of what was happening to her. Before she could react further, he was at her side, and together, the two extinguished the small flame located on the left side of the wood before it could cause any further damage, or worse, spread to her feathers. Lumière let out a sigh of relief, hanging his head in shame. "I must beg your pardon. I didn't mean for that to happen."

A swishing came as she turned to look at him. "It's all right. Luckily it was tiny," she began slowly, "but I think maybe we shouldn't do that again." He nodded in supplication, his head still down. Having no arm-like appendages on her body, she used her head to push his up. "See? I'm still here, and I'm not afraid of you." Babette declared, nodding up toward the flame that still burned at the top of his "head." After giving her calm face a look-over for genuineness, Lumière carefully placed his arms around her again, tugging her a little more cautiously toward him, his remaining flame providing the solitary light for the once again ghostly ballroom. Sometimes, he forgot just how fortunate he was to have her.

XXXXXX

"It's quite odd, isn't it?" Lumière asked, shifting his position again on the bed to indicate the candles, "Fire, for as much damage as it may cause, also provides us with so much."

Turning back to her, he elaborated, "It gave you that scar, but it also protected you from that lecherous pig." Babette wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorry," Lumière comforted, "If it is any consolation to you, I needed assistance in the battle, as well."

She lowered her hand to extend it toward him once more, and reached up to run her fingers across his forehead. "I was wondering where these marks were from."

"Would you believe they were from the same thing that caused your scar?" He inquired in a sour voice with a sweep of his arm in direction of the candles. How close he came to meeting his end, however, was something he would not like to tell her. Babette retracted her hand, allowing it to fall into her lap. With a much softer tone, he continued, "Remember what you said to me that night? You said you were unafraid?"

"Yes," she responded, her eyes studying his face.

"It was a villager's torch that damaged me, but I still lit these candles," after a pause, he added, "If I could take back harming you, I would."

"But it did happen, and I reminded you that it did," Babette continued for him, catching on and laying a hand over her heart to indicate herself, "I didn't say that just for you. I wanted to remind myself, as well, that things can get out of hand if we allow them." Lumière raised his eyebrow at her words. She laughed. "Just as I said before, there are two sides to this. The burn happened because we each lost control of ourselves. I was the one to draw you in, after all."

He reached out, and grasped both of her hands, bringing them up. Lumière doubted that they would engage in passion again tonight after that sort of interruption. As disappointed as he was, he could tell himself there would always be tomorrow. "Well, then, Babette, we are both at fault," he declared with a tinge of humor.

She leaned forward to place a kiss on his lips. "And that is just fine." Lumière grinned as she wrapped her arms around him. Closing his eyes, he leaned whole-heartedly into her embrace as the fire she brought completely engulfed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing Lumière and Babette was hard, Babette more so, since she had very limited screentime and dialogue in the film. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, was tricky in the fact that I wanted him to face the past, but not to dwell in it. It's not within Lumière's character to be down about something for too long, and this made it hard to walk the line when it came to him.


End file.
